Rose Fanée
by OreoCoral
Summary: Two beings alike, yet so unlike. An obsessed and possessive man, and a frightened yet furious girl. It's all his fault, she thinks, but no...it was her fault as well. Trust, is indeed a fragile thing. /LEROUX-ERIK


**- ROSE FANÉE** © 2013 -  
by OreoCoral

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No part of this fictional story is to be sold, copied, translated or reproduced anywhere without my consent. All things, names, and several places mentioned in this story is fictional. Some details about certain things that I will be using here has been changed as well.

Please do not take this out of Fanfiction/Fictionpress or anywhere else where this fiction is posted officially under me. The website(s) where it is posted will be mentioned on the Author's profile.

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/written-5/6/2013-/

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**- INTRODUCTION ON AUTHOR -**

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Greetings, I am a FictionPress and Fanfiction author known by the name of OreoCoral. I am a Singaporean as well as a half Korean-and-Chinese. Currently, I am in secondary school and therefore, do not have much time to get onto the computer, perhaps only on weekends. In addition, I do not know the language of Koreans, only Chinese (unfortunately...) so please do not converse with me in Korean.

Although I have a passion for writing stories, I somehow do not manage to keep that motivation and patience which is needed when writing. Therefore, many stories under me have been deleted, left untouched for months, or discontinued. Usually, they're just deleted.

My age, personality, description of outer appearance will not be revealed to anyone, just so to let you know early before one of you decides to ask.

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**ROSE FANÉE**

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_Musical..._

_Hysterical..._

_Treacherous..._

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Two beings alike, yet so unlike. An obsessed and possessive man, and a frightened yet furious girl. It's all his fault, she thinks, but no...it was her fault as well. Trust, is indeed a fragile thing.

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**PROLOGUE**  
**[Olden-Day France]**

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She never wanted this, desired this, or even thought about it. It had taken her by surprise, and channeled much fury into her; all past neutral and friendly feelings dissolved. Such an action was unforgivable, she declared mentally, such an action should award its user an eternity in hell - never to get out, eternally tormented. It was unlike her to think of such violent and angry thoughts, but she couldn't control herself.

It wasn't her fault...it wasn't. It was _his_... But wait, was she to blame as well? After all, she had _trusted _him. If she had not, she would have been more cautious and careful, and her carelessness which she so much despised herself for currently would have never allowed such a dreadful event to take place. Why had he even snatched her away? She did not know, and her subconscious told her it was best for some truths to lie hidden in the dark shadows.

It was all going so well. Everything had been all so nice and perfect. Him tutoring her like every other stern mentor would, and her learning oh-so very eagerly, having love music so much. She took in every word said, and obliged to his high expectations - never failing, always exceeding. She was so _eager _to please him, to see his approval. After all, wasn't that what every student secretly yearned for? For their teachers to quietly be impressed with their work?

It seemed that whatever she had been doing so well wasn't enough for _him_, though. Thus, _this _happened. Just remembering about it boiled her blood. Her shrieks and screams of shock, plus dismay, echoing in the night sky, with no one to hear it, and whispering desperate words of comfort and sorrow entering her ears. Was she expected to forgive him that easily? No matter what words said to her now, she would not listen to them. She hated the owner of that musical, enchanting, and soothing voice, no matter how appealing it seemed. Everything attractive about him had now vanished.

She was determined to behave difficult until he would finally give up and release her. However, to her deep disappointment, nothing seemed to work on him. _Nothing_. Instead, he was evermore enduring and patient with her! This, of course, destroyed most of her determination already. She was running out of ways, and the one of the few options remaining was to just be silent and obey him till the end. She would definitely _not_ choose that, obviously. It would end up being the death of her, both mentally and physically.

No, she was not being abused by him. But at times his rages and tantrums were just too...frightening and horrible. But he never touched her once, and that roused her curiosity. Such violent tantrums had affected literally everything in the place - the furniture, the walls...but never her. After the first time he had gotten so angry at her, which was about three days past, she then concluded that he was indeed a mad man, and her resolve to escape quickly just increased to a higher point and made her all panicky, as well as stressed. Sure, he was considerate with her, but still he was a very easy person to anger. After that first rage-mood, she tried to not rouse his monster-like side for she was still considerably shaken from it.

What was to become of her in time to come, she had not so much of a clue or hint. She never asked him this sensitive question for two simple reasons - firstly, she was not exactly sure if she actually wanted to hear his response, should he ever reveal his plans. Secondly, she knew if she _did _question him, he was just wave it away nonchalantly. That was the way he was; mysterious, and creepy. Well, he was like that to _her_, but she was somehow sure that others would think the same.

Since the day she had been taken away from the face of earth, she was certain she would never again see and feel the warm and welcoming embrace of the sunshine. And up till now, she had been correct. She was brought to a house with a big, dark lake surrounding it. Yet barely a ray of sunlight ever shone in. The only illumination in the whole entire house was the candles and lights, giving the area an eerie atmosphere, not that it wasn't already eerie from the start. In fact, she could still remember the very first time she had seen him.

Tall, scarily thin, and dressed entirely in black. The only factors that stood out was his full white mask which concealed his entire face apart from his two glowing orbs that shone a bright amber, even brighter in the dark. She noticed he would always dressed in a black formal suit - even during their lessons together. He never seemed to change his outfit - heck, even his _shoes _looked the same all the time!

Of course, she suspected they were polished everyday with a lot care, since she hardly ever saw even a flicker of dirt on them. His jet-black hair would be slicked back smoothly and his hands would be donning on leather gloves for most of the time. At some points he would remove it, but it only happened when he was playing any musical instruments, or when he was sitting by his organ composing new scripts of music. And when he did, she would never fail to be stunned by his extremely pale and nearly-white skin. Even his neck was usually covered up by high-collar clothing.

Oh, her friends...her foster mother who went by the well-known name of Madame Valerius... she wept everyday just thinking about them. Would she ever see them again? Had they already forgotten about her? Especially her two good friends, Meg Giry and Raoul de Chagny. She was the closest to them amongst all.

She had no doubt she was a prisoner here.

Having nothing and no one she now trusted in this silent and unknown location as accompaniment.

Only a psychopath and the intoxicating darkness.

- X -

"My dear, I see you have awaken. I have prepared a lovely breakfast for you, come and see, come and see! ...No, it will not poison you, my sweet. I will never poison you! I love you too much to do that," the man eagerly gestured for Christine Eloise Mary Daaé to take a seat by the dining table where placed in front, a platter filled with delicious-smelling eggs and some buttered toast. She cautiously lowered herself down onto the cushioned chair and watched him warily as he filled her a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice. "Do eat up before all gets cold and unappetizing."

One may have found his speech crazy-sounding and strange, but she was already used to it. After she had been raped from her house, he had started to speak in such a way and at first, it horrified her to realise that her former mentor was madly in love with her - even an amateur would have figured it out. Logically, even if one loved another, they wouldn't commit such an act! It would take a truly desperate person to carry such a task out. As well as insane.

In the start, when he had just started to tutor her in her soprano singing, he had spoken to her in a fierce and cold way. But as weeks passed, when she told him about seeing her childhood friend, Raoul, again during one of the Opera's performance rehearsals, he had suddenly become very angry and had told her sternly if she was to bestow her heart upon earth, he would have no other choice but to stop all their lessons and leave. This astonished her to no end - why was he acting this way? Was he not glad for her to finally be reunited with her long-lost playmate? She then agreed to ignore Raoul from that day, in fear of losing the man she now considered a friend. In addition, he was the only one who could bring her singing to higher heights.

In all other ways, she started to receive beautiful bouquets of red roses always tied with black ribbons on her dressing table, and sometimes came along attached a card or two. In these cards would always be handwritten sentences forming messages of encouragement dedicated to her. She had felt very grateful for it all. But never knew who sent it. Instead, she thought it to be Raoul.

Christine had started to feel a bit uncomfortable when he started to stare for longer moments at her, always an unreadable expression swimming in his intense gaze. Her discomfit increased when he began to speak to her more gently, softly, and even _desperately_. Sometimes even in third-person. Whenever she mentioned Raoul, though, he would all so suddenly become cold and icy towards her, at times sneering about the Vicomte.

To her, it just didn't _seem_ right for an adult to fall for a mere teenager. But who was she to challenge the complicated workings of love? So, she had just allowed him to ramble on like this. It irked her slightly, of course.

"...Thank you, Erik," she reluctantly said, addressing him by his name after having not for days. Despite the turmoil wrecking about in her mind, Christine did not forget her manners taught by her governess. She did not fail to see a glimmer of pure delight shine in his golden circles. As she ate slowly, trying to tick time away for as long as possible, Erik spoke,

"Do you wish for me to play? I will gladly do so if you'd allow me." As much as she adored his musical talent, she rejected the idea, having too many things in her head already. She knew that the sound of playing could help ease her thoughts, but she had figured out that Erik was just trying to use such a way in an attempt for her to remain. Many had no knowledge of that fact that music could be _very _manipulative. Silence fell upon them both, and it remained until the Swedish's teenager had completely devoured her meal. He then swiftly cleared it away before she could even move so much of a finger.

Erik proceeded to usher her to the couches. There were no other appliances in the house, the only ones were located in Erik's own private study, and Christine had absolutely so way of breaking into there, having seen all the complicated locks surrounding the door leading inwards. She had to grudgingly admit that the place was decorated most expensively and nicely. What she preferred most was the instruments though, especially the glossy violin for her deceased father, Gustave Daaé, used to play such a magnificent contraption.

"Would you care for some news, my dear Christine?" Erik abruptly questioned and curiosity clawed at her. He had not been this cheerful ever since she had yelled at him to leave her alone and never to show his face again to her seven days ago. She was about to ask him to reveal it, but then wondered if this 'news' was going to be dreadful and too horrific for the ears to bear and mind to handle. She then chided herself for being such a timid person and buckled up her courage to finally say, "What is it?" Upon hearing this, the masked man's gaze seemed to bore into her.

"We are to be wed tonight, precious one."

A second later, an unconscious body slid to the wooden floor.

- X -

When she awoke, she found herself lying on the slight-harder-than-she-had-expected couch. Erik, to her utter horror, was kneeling by her side. In his hands held a glass of water and upon seeing her gain consciousness, hurriedly offered it towards her.

Christine blinked once and for once in her entire life ever since being brought here, accepted it gratefully. Her head was pounding as though a herd of deer had just stampeded through it. When she had taken a few sips of the drink, Erik told it back and disappeared into the small kitchen before reappearing back in front of her.

"What...what happened?" she groggily asked, clutching her head and she snuggled deeper into the cushions, wishing for the throbbing feeling to disappear.

"You fainted, child." And at once the 'news' he had spoken of earlier rushed to her head, causing the pain in her to increase two-fold and she nearly gasped aloud. Christine felt tears rise hotly to her eyes and Erik's own ones widened in alarm. At once and without thinking much, he grasped her slender hands in his own gloved pair. She tried to pull them back, but his grip only tightened. One of the examples of his unpredictable personality, as well as behaviour.

"Why do you not wish to marry poor Erik?" He was now speaking in third-person, and she inwardly groaned. It was a clear sign of his emotional distress. "Is Erik not good enough for you? Erik has indeed tried his utmost to please Christine! Why do you still say no?" his voice cracked and his shoulders shuddered and she realised in dismay that he was _crying_. He had already cried several times because of her, and this was not making her feel any better, only guiltier. She definitely didn't like being the cause of one's flowing tears, be them a monster or not. She saw the tears drip onto his suit.

"Erik...Erik...stop, I did not say I did not wish to be wed to you," she attempted to comfort him but it was all ignored and cast aside. To her surprise and panic, he dropped her hands and fell into an even lower position before burying his face into the edges of her long, white dress. He said nothing, but just sobbed and sobbed. Christine stared at him, too stunned to even process what was happening. Unanticipatedly, Erik lifted his head up and like some pitiful creature, crawled into his room and the door slammed shut.

"Here, here..." he whispered, popping out of no where and Christine nearly fainted again. "Once Christine wears this, she shall for ever belong to Erik! No longer shall he be lonely and by himself! Look here, look! See what your poor Erik has brought for you!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a plain gold band. He grabbed her still fingers and then tried to push the ring forcefully onto her finger. Christine let out a cry and jerked her hand back. She hastily stood up and retreated many steps back, all the while holding onto her hand protectively.

"Why do you continue to resist?" Erik hissed. "Have you not yet understand? You can never leave here without becoming Erik's bride!" She listened in increasing fear as he paced about the sitting room, murmuring and muttering obsessively to himself.

"...A living bride! Yes, she shall be Erik's, no one else's! ..._My living bride_..." It was at the moment that she knew she had to leave at once. But as she turned for the door, her arm was held on by a hand and she was turned roughly to face a now hysterical phantom.

"_No! _You shall not leave Erik to go to that pretty boy of yours!" he spat furiously, eyes glowing brightly with bloody rage and madness. "Do not think Erik does not know what you, a sly and sneaky viper, is attempting to do! You plan..." he choked. "You plan to abandon Erik! You want to leave your sad Erik to marry that insolent Vicomte! You'd rather be a Vicomtesse than a monster's wife! You find Erik handsome, do you not? _Speak_!" he screamed and dragged her up the stairs violently while ignoring her cries of pain, and brought her over to the bed. He turned and stormed out before coming back in less than a minute.

In his hands held two long and thick coils of strong rope.

Christine's face paled in realisation.

"Erik! Erik!" she shouted out desperately as she struggled in his hold - for a man of his frame, he was immensely strong. "Stop this at once, Erik! I do not love Raoul! You are not thinking clearly! _Erik_!" she bit her lips and tongue hard enough to draw blood as he pulled at the rope coiled about her hands, tightening and securing it around the bedpost. She wanted to cry. Not only was she in excessive pain, she was too stuck with a mentally-troubled man. She knew in her heart that nothing good would come out of this.

"There!" Erik cried out in satisfaction, withdrawing back to his feet. He looked at the tightly-tied up hands and grinned insanely to no one in particular. "Now Christine shall never try to escape this house again!" he looked at her and murmured comfortingly. "Why do you cry, Christine? Erik is only doing this for your own good!"

"My own _good_?" she shrieked furiously as streaks of tears ran down her cheeks. "Erik, you are hurting me!" A shadow passed over his hidden face and his eyes darkened.

"Erik will _never _harm his love," he reminded her seriously. "If Christine is hurt due to Erik's actions, then it had to be inflicted upon her as it was necessary." He then caught sight of her tears and red eyes. He bent down, amber eyes cleared a bit, and hesitantly reached for her cheek. When she turned away, his arms dropped back down. He got up and headed for the door, but not before looking back and saying,

"Erik only wants Christine to be safe." And left. The locking of the door could be heard. Christine was left in the suffocating darkness, and she felt her hands starting to become deprived of oxygen. Even her legs were tied up to prevent her from standing. All these done to her...just for her to be _safe_?

She shut her eyes, and a waterfall of uncried tears threatened to spill down.

- X -

"Let me go, Erik," she gasped hoarsely as the door opened many hours later. Erik appeared carrying a tray filled with a platter of fruit and a mug of water. Christine was now feeling extremely sick. Her stomach hurt tremendously from the deprive of food, her throat yearned desperately for a sip of water, and her limbs ached and felt sore... Her hands! Even in the dark she could observe them turning a slight color of purple, having not sufficient oxygen being transported there. Her cheeks felt sticky and her eyes were feeling dry and pain.

"I can not," Erik said with a twinge of sadness as he sat by her side, reaching for the plate of food. "You must learn your lesson." Christine felt a spear of relief plunge into her heart. At least he was no longer speaking and referring to himself by his own name. It meant he had calmed down. She tried once more, this time with a hint of desperation unintentionally making its way into her tone.

"Please Erik," she whispered. "I am feeling very unwell. I feel as though I am about to die." Erik paused in handling her over the cup and eyed her uncertainly, like a kid who was not exactly sure if his mother had really permitted him to play in the fields during a rainy day.

"Is Christine sincere?" he asked at last. "Does Christine promise to Erik, that she will _never _attempt to desert him behind?" Hesitantly, she nodded and Erik relaxed considerably. Obviously in a much better mood, he placed a slice of apple near her mouth, silently urging her to eat it. Christine was only too glad to take a bite. She no longer cared who was feeding her; she just needed some food down in her abdomen and to start the process of digestion. After a while, Erik asked again quietly while feeding her a cut pear,

"Does Christine agree to be married to Erik?" This took her aback. She had not been expecting that question at all. Some would have agreed readily, just to be untied from the wicked clutches of the ropes. But not her. She wouldn't. She couldn't.

"I'm..." she started softly. "Erik...I _can't_. You know that."

"Then Erik can not release his poor Christine, as much as he would love to," Erik swallowed, a flash of pain could be seen in his eyes. "Do...does Christine hate Erik very much?"

"Hate...you?" Christine echoed wearily. "Why do you ask that?"

"Erik has been unfair and cruel to Christine. He has starved her. He has abused her in many ways, never once thinking of her feelings..." he said. "Erik is a very evil man, he does not want to release Christine until she has consented into marrying him...Does Christine hate him?" he asked simply a second time, but the dread could clearly be distinguished in his voice. Now that it had come to such a point...Christine had to think - did she truly hate him? Before, she was certain she indeed hated him. But now...hearing his defeated tone and piercing words...she was not so sure anymore.

He had kidnapped her, taken control over her life, her relationships, everything. He had deceived and lied to her...done things which hurt her terribly. No doubt she felt angry over that. Yet he too had his own reasons, no matter how unreasonable and unrealistic it seemed to her or would have to others. She was not him, she did not know how he veraciously felt inside. But somehow...she knew that Erik had honestly hadn't meant to harm her in any way, no matter his actions or words directed towards her.

"I do not know, Erik," she finally replied, sounding exhausted and she refused to bite into the strawberry held out for her from the gloved fingers. "You have hurt me beyond measure." At once Erik placed down the plate and slowly, shakily, caught hold of bundled hands and pressed them to the area where his lips would have been if not for the mask. Christine was much too out of this world to even care of what he had just done. Usually she would struggle and try to pull out of his grasp, but not to day. Not now.

"Erik does not mean to hurt his Christine!" he cried dramatically. "Christine...Christine is right! Erik does not think, he only acts out of impulse!" His shoulders began to shake again. "Oh, forgive me, my dearest! Say you forgive Erik and do not hate him!" Christine's gaze glazed over him and she did not respond. It was only then did Erik _truly _catch sight of her gruesome condition.

"What has Erik done?" he whispered to himself. "He has hurt his sweetest Christine..."

The last thing Christine saw through her blurring eyes was a pair of glowing orbs darting forward frantically and then blackness overwhelmed her senses.

- X -

Her eyes flickered open and she had to squint them in the shadowy darkness, just to try to see through the shrouds of blackness. At the start her mind was fuzzy and was unable to take in anything until after a while, where she suddenly had a blast of memories - eating breakfast by the table...Erik dragging her up the stairs...bonds being tied around her limbs... She had to blink several times before she actually noticed a dark figure by the side. Two tiny yellow circles faced her and at times flickered, but they never once turned in another direction. Again, it took Christine quite a well to realise those reptilian-like eyes belonged to Erik.

"Erik?" she whispered, still not entirely sure due to the faults of her blurred mind. At once the figure approached her swiftly and soundlessly. "Christine? Are you alright?" Erik murmured worriedly, staring intently at her pale face in the gloom. For around the hundredth time, the Swedish being wondered how was it that the man in front of her could see so well in the dark. But then, she reminded herself he had lived in the dark for such a long period of time that he was used to the dimness of the place and of the night. Night to him was like day.

"Yes...I think so." And it was surprisingly true. She had never felt so well-rested than before. She was hydrated and full, even! This realisation and strange fact hit her hard. What _had _happened over the time she was unconscious? She did not bother asking though, she was only glad and relieved to be free from the twisted bonds and remained beneath the warm covers of the bed. For quite a long while, the pair said nothing, but only stared at each other. During that time of tranquility, she noticed her hands were bandaged. Alas, Christine tacitly questioned,

"Were you the one who released me?" Even though she could not see it, she had the strong impression of Erik's lips curving upwards in a small smirk of amusement.

"Who else would, dear child? Not a ghost, I suppose?" At that moment, all past impressions and thoughts she had on the masked man before her dissolved, and she had to hold back a small laugh. This was the side she was most familiar with - the side she had experienced when they were still educator and pupil. The side she liked so much. Ah, how much she missed it. She shook her head and gave a small smile, not exactly sure if Erik could see it. But then, his vision in the dark was that of an owl's.

"No, supposedly not."

"Child?" Erik uttered gingerly.

"Yes?"

"I...will not force you to put on the ring until you feel ready." Christine was aware of the amount of mental strength it had taken to say these few words. He could have easily forced her to be wed to him. After all, he was much stronger than her. Hitherto he was still considerate as ever, and knew how wearisome she was feeling, and so had made this terribly hard - to him - decision. A huge and strong wave of gratitude and washed over her.

She felt a prick of guilt for feeling ecstatic astride hearing that very sentence.

Deep in her subconscious, she knew she would never be ready.

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**- ENDING NOTE -**

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The newest fictional story I have released onto this website! I apologise if this seems a bit messy, even I found it much when typing it. However, I have hoped you readers have enjoyed it and is not_ too_ disappointed with it. Keke~!

All other matters aside, in this story, I have tried to portray Erik as a more 'mentally-troubled' person. As you have noticed, his personality and behavior switches rather quick sides. For Christine, I was quite confused myself. Her personality is not known to me, even! I had just typed her out as my heart told me to. I pray it wasn't too bad? Maybe it is because I have not typed out a POTO story for a long period of time, which explains why I feel a bit...'messed-up' when writing this? I do not know, but that must be it, I suppose.

To be frank, I have actually wanted to place this in a modern timeline, but figured that I wasn't too expert at that. Thus I decided to set the story in olden France instead.

Oh gosh, I really hope this doesn't go to waste...I practically used over five hours writing this out and then editing it over and over!

I will see you all again and do check back for Chapter One. If you have any inquiries about the story, please do not hesitate to PM me about it and I will try my best to return a satisfactory answer.

Do check out my other fictional story on Greek Mythology based on the Greek gods Hades and Persephone - Silent Night!

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- OreoCoral

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**THIS IS THE END OF THE PROLOGUE**

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